CHAPTER 30
1497 Words
CHAPTER 30
The next few days were a blur of meetings. With all those detectives, lawyers, and media gurus vying for her attention, Kennedy wished she could hire a personal assistant just to juggle her schedule.
Sandy was even busier gophering Carl’s books and effects to and from his room in Providence. He still insisted on preparing for his Sunday sermon. The doctors weren’t giving him a firm release date yet, but the chances of surgery decreased each day.
When he was finally let out Saturday evening, Kennedy rode with Sandy to bring him back home.
“I told you they wouldn’t keep me from the pulpit.” Carl had lost a few pounds at Providence. His chipmunk cheeks weren’t quite as full when he smiled, and he seemed to boast a few more wrinkles than Kennedy remembered. Still, besides having his arm in a sling, he walked and talked and acted like the boisterous, bustling pastor she had known as a little girl in Manhattan.
Sandy stopped by the store on the way home from Providence to pick up Carl’s prescription. “I’ll just be a minute or two.”
“Don’t listen to a word she says,” Carl whispered when she left. “She’ll be in there half an hour if she’s in there a second.”
Sure enough, when Sandy got back to the car, she was pushing a cart full of grocery bags and several rolls of wrapping paper.
“Sorry it took me so long.”
“What were you doing in there?” Carl asked after she had loaded the trunk. “Making plans to feed an army?”
Sandy turned the key in the ignition. “They had ham on sale.”
“So you got a whole cart full?”
“No. But I had to get sides to go with it.”
Kennedy loved the way Carl and Sandy always bantered back and forth. Her parents had never really been playful like that, at least not in Kennedy’s memory.
“Well, it’s just Kennedy staying with us. I don’t think you needed to break the bank. The skinny thing eats like a bird.”
Sandy waved away his remark. “It’s for Christmas Eve, silly.”
“You know Christmas is a week and a half away, right?” Carl asked.
She pulled out of the parking lot and patted her husband’s leg. “You got to plan these things ahead, you know.”
Over the next few days, Kennedy grew to understand exactly what kind of planning ahead was required for a Lindgren-style Christmas Eve dinner. She and Sandy started by making ten dozen cookies to serve the grandkids when they came to help decorate the tree. It took a day and a half to reclaim the house and vacuum up all the colored tinsel, cookie crumbs, and popcorn kernels they left behind.
When Christmas week came, Sandy and Kennedy were in the kitchen for at least six hours a day, slicing, cubing, mixing, and chopping. On the days when Sandy babysat her grandson, Kennedy stayed busy with meal prep even while Sandy helped Tyson make his mom, dad, and paternal grandmother hand-made gifts. From looking inside the fridge, you would have assumed their guest count was in the twenties or thirties, and maybe it was. Sandy was extending new invitations and modifying the guest list at least once or twice a day. She had insisted that Kennedy invite Reuben when she learned he had no other place to go, and Kennedy was happy when he accepted.
On the morning of the 24th, Sandy sent Carl out twice to the store for items she forgot but was convinced no Christmas dinner spread could exist without. She and Kennedy had already scrubbed the house spotless over the past few days, but she went over everything two or three more times in the final hours before the guests arrived. Kennedy was glad to know she’d be one of many seated around the Lindgrens’ dinner table. She would have hated the thought of Sandy going through so much trouble just for her. She was a little anxious that Reuben would feel out of place, but then she remembered his hundred cousins, aunts, and uncles, and figured he’d probably be more at home than she was.
Carl had spent the past week and a half alternately teasing Sandy for her perfectionistic tendencies and trying in vain to convince her to rest or relax. Tonight, he placed his left hand on her shoulder, smiled into her work-flushed face, and declared, “Everything looks perfect, dear.” He kissed her cheek. “You work harder than any other woman I know.”
She paused long enough to give him a small peck on the lips and then scurried to the freezer.
“What are you doing?” Carl asked.
“I need to make sure we have enough ice.”
“Leave it.”
“I just want to ...”
“Leave it.”
Sandy turned and gave Carl a small, tired smile. He came up and gave her a slow hug. “I love you, babe,” he whispered, and Kennedy wondered if they even remembered she was there.
“I love you, too.” Sandy nuzzled her cheek against his. “And you know what I could use a strong, hunky man for right about now?”
“What’s that?” A playful smirk spread across his face, and Kennedy wondered if she should retreat to the guest room.
Sandy returned his smoldering grin. “You could reach up and pull that extra pack of napkins down for me.”
Carl took her hand and kissed it. “Anything for my princess.”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh! They’re here!” Sandy sounded as excited as a little girl on Christmas morning. “I’ll get that,” she told Kennedy. “You just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
It would probably be a late night, and a loud one too, judging by the laughter of the two grandsons who burst through the dining room waving toy airplanes through the air and occasionally crashing them into each other.
A third boy ran in to join the ruckus, and Kennedy recognized Blessing’s son, Tyson.
A few minutes later, another round of greetings heralded the arrival of more guests. By the end of the night, Kennedy would be lucky to remember half of their names. The sounds were so different from the typical Harvard din. Had she really only been in college for one semester? She was an entirely different person with what felt like a lifetime of experiences — experiences that strengthened and sharpened her, as well as some that left ugly, gaping scars.
“Kennedy!” Sandy’s voice was playful and teasing. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Kennedy jumped up, chiding herself for feeling so nervous. It was just Reuben. It’s not like they hadn’t seen each other every day in class all semester long.
“Hey.” There was his same smile, his same care-free demeanor.
“Hey.” She was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her for a hug.
“I’m glad you’re safe.” He was still wearing his parka, the same one he loaned her during their ride on the T.
She gave Reuben a smile and led him to the appetizer table. Nick was in the corner and gave a quick nod. Kennedy tried not to feel embarrassed. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
The Lindgrens’ house was a blaze of jumbled colors. Christmas decorations hung on nearly every square foot of wall without any common theme other than cheer. Many of them were homemade and looked like they had survived a few decades in and out of storage boxes. It was all so different from what Kennedy remembered of childhood holidays at her grandma’s in New York, where she was the only child amongst somber, formal faces.
It was hard to imagine how recently she and Carl had been driving for their lives, ducking while bullets shattered the window of his car. She would probably still worry when she was out at night. She probably couldn’t ride the T for a while without a bad case of the shakes. She’d definitely have her fair share of nightmares with Gino’s hardened face glaring at her. But for right now, she could focus on the sound of Carl and Sandy bantering playfully while wave after wave of grandkids took over the dining room, living room, and den. She could forget the smell of subway smoke and burned tire rubber and antiseptic hospitals and fix her mind on the scent of savory ham and fresh coffee.
For now, with the happy shouts and greetings quickly drowning out the sound of the Christmas carols on the stereo, Kennedy could finally relax. She and Reuben sat down with their plates full of candies, veggies, quiches, and mini-sandwiches. Reuben took a bite before announcing, “I got you something for Christmas.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.
She laughed as soon as she opened the present. “You know me too well.” It was a new cellphone battery. She hoped it hadn’t cost too much money.
“So you’ll always have a back-up,” Reuben declared with a smile.
“Well, I have something for you, too.” She put her plate down and ran to the guest room. She came back with an envelope. “It’s not ... I mean, I had a hard time ... Well, just open it.”
Reuben tore open the envelope and pulled out the two gift cards. “Common Treasures and Angelo’s Pizza?”
“It’s the rain check I promised you.”
He slipped the cards into his coat. “Thank you.”
Sandy bustled over. “Have you two eaten yet? There’s lots, so help yourselves.”
Kennedy and Reuben looked at their full plates and broke into giggles. Kennedy took a deep breath, thankful that the Lindgrens had opened their home to her once more, thankful that God had kept her safe through yet another fiery ordeal.
- Writer
